


Star Drift

by 17thousand



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Mission Fic, Pre-Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28984224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/17thousand/pseuds/17thousand
Summary: A mission goes wrong, and Leia clashes with her egotistical pilot.
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31
Collections: HanLeia Challenge





	Star Drift

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Star Wars fandom. I re-discovered fanfiction during the quarantine, and it got me through many glum evenings. Thank you for sharing your creativity. This year, I wanted to try writing too. This was in response to the "Stars" prompt on Tumblr. Hope it's not weird to stop lurking out of the blue.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Leia found him, as usual, staring out at the stars beyond the cockpit. From where she stood in the entrance, she could see Han’s face reflected in the transparisteel viewport, framed by unruly hair and the vastness of space stretching out before them. She couldn’t tell if he was actually contemplating the expanse or if he was just putting on another show. Virtuous detachment? Injured aloofness? Whatever his studiously blank expression was intended to project, it was irritating. As if the mission hadn’t been enough of a mess, he never missed a chance to make his ego a condition of his cooperation.  
  
She dropped into the empty co-pilot’s chair besides him, keeping her eyes pointedly fixed on the side of his face. She was still wearing the evening’s finery. He didn’t blink. Casually sprawled in his battered seat, he had one long leg propped up over the controls, the other foot planted on the deck. Green eyes fixed on the stars. Leia held her breath for a moment longer, before impatience, and frankly, desperation, won over her desire to match his infuriating attitude.  
  
“Well?” she asked.  
  
“2 standard days,” he answered impassively, still not looking at her.  
  
2 days before they rejoined the Rebel fleet. Within the margins mission control had accounted for when they’d planned for contingencies. She was relieved, but she didn’t want to show it. “Alright. Not great, not terrible,” she replied.  
  
Actually, they both knew it was nothing short of miraculous.  
  
\--  
  
The mission had started out smoothly. Leia, accompanied by General Rieekan and a lower-ranking intelligence officer, had been safely delivered to a resort on Castilus, where a shipping magnate with well-concealed sympathies for the Alliance was holding his annual gala and fundraiser for ocean conservation. It was an opportunity to collect information about a potentially valuable cross-section of the galactic elite: wealthy individuals who were willing to donate to one bleeding heart cause could plausibly be persuaded to contribute to another. This was the first step: gathering leads. The invitation had been transmitted to High Command through their network of spies, vetted, and deemed safe. There was little overt Imperial activity on the watery planet except to protect mining operations on the northern hemisphere. The sparse collection of spectacular resorts in the southern half of the globe catered to placid, well-heeled tourists from the conservative Core, and they were trusted to govern themselves. The Millennium Falcon was chosen as the mission’s transport for its unremarkable exterior, as well as for its speed and heavy artillery, should the worst come to pass.  
  
It did.  
  
_Who had betrayed them?_ She was already laying the groundwork in her mind for the extensive investigations they would need to conduct upon their return. The unflappable General Rieekan had decided to go to bed soon after they’d dropped out of hyperspeed, satisfied with the knowledge that they had evaded the Imperial ships and were now floating safely somewhere in deep space. He trusted their capable pilot to plot a new course back to the Alliance fleet, and that they would wake him if anything else went wrong.  
  
The knowledge that her superior was snoring peacefully in the captain’s quarters hadn't put Leia’s mind at ease. Having paced the ship’s ring corridor until Chewbacca and Officer Theta had also decided to slink away to their berths, she soon found herself circling closer to the cockpit. The Falcon’s captain had remained ensconced there after banishing his passengers to the main hold, where they could see and hear nothing of his maneuvers. They’d buckled themselves into the curved seats around the holochess table, hardly daring to breathe as the unwieldy vessel dipped and twisted, plunging vertiginously for a long, heart-stopping moment. Then the familiar clanking noises of the hyperdrive kicked in. She’d counted no fewer than four quick, shuddering jumps in and out of hyperspace before the roar of lightspeed was unexpectedly replaced by the tranquil purring of the Falcon’s ion engines resuming a steady course. Chewbacca had joined them a few minutes later, but couldn’t answer their anxious questions except to flash them a thumbs up and fanged grin. Captain Solo hadn’t followed. Hours later, he and Leia were the only two left awake, and she had no idea where they were or how long the return journey would take.  
  
When she'd realized she’d been standing outside the hatch to the cockpit for a full minute, stewing in panic and uncertainty, the anxiety turned to anger and she marched in.  
  
\--  
  
As a freighter, the Falcon had been permitted to land in the resort’s cargo loading dock, using the clearance codes provided to them by their host. From there, Leia, Rieekan, and Theta had surreptitiously scurried from the dock to a room in the plush resort, where they’d changed into their gala outfits and descended to the ballroom to infiltrate the party. Posing as one of the shipping magnate’s countless nephews, Officer Theta introduced Leia as his young, ebullient Kuati girlfriend, a wealthy student activist with a passion for awareness campaigns and agitating for worthy causes. General Riekaan parked himself by the drinks and kept watch, scanning the room discreetly and gauging body language.  
  
Han had looked on disdainfully as she caked on the traditional Kuati make-up in the Falcon’s cramped fresher. He leaned against the doorway with his arms folded, as though watching a tedious performance. “I still recognize you,” he offered. She’d piled her dark hair high up on her head in a popular Core-world style, and was tapping borrowed rouge powder on her temples and nose when he entered. She met his eyes in the mirror, arching a blood red eyebrow. “That’s because you see me every day. The only holos circulating of me show Princess Leia in Alderaani royal dress or her senate robes. I was only a junior senator on Coruscant, I never made the tabloids, and these people have no reason to think _Why, isn’t that the last princess of Alderaan?_ when they meet a giggly Kuati socialite. Now, don’t you have anything better to do than to stare at me, Captain?”  
  
The captain swallowed and straightened up, giving her one last once-over in the mirror before skulking away. He’d been in a foul mood since his passengers had stepped on board, barking at Theta for touching a loose panel, not buckling his safety belt, or standing too close to the controls. This was no surprise, as Han had displayed an instant dislike for the suave young officer from the moment Theta had arrived at the fleet’s hidden location several months ago. But he’d also sneered that their cover as a couple was the stuff of pulp holos, promising that it would fall apart as soon as anybody took a good look at them and instantly arouse suspicion. Mystified by this last comment, and the fact that Chewbacca was nodding in somber agreement, Leia had followed Theta’s lead and brushed him off. The cover had been devised and approved by the intelligence committee. Theta was not that much older than she was, and in fact, Mon Mothma had winked that they looked good together. Han’s demeanor towards her had grown icier by the hour. By the end of their long journey to Castilus, he was communicating only in terse updates to Rieekan, who seemed pleased by the silence on board. Why the captain decided to hover around her now that they’d landed and she was getting ready to get out of his hair was beyond her. She felt uncharacteristically flustered as she gathered her evening gown, shoes, and hideaway blaster into a non-descript bag and met her companions at the entrance ramp. Rieekan and Theta were studying the map of the resort one last time. She handed them each their burner comms.  
  
Han lowered the ramp for them, and stood by the hatch as they descended. “You kids have fun,” he chirped with a tight grin. “We will,” Theta replied over his shoulder, placing a guiding hand firmly on Leia’s lower back as they descended onto the humid tarmac of the cargo dock. The hatch slammed shut behind them.  
  
\--  
  
That hand stayed more or less glued to her for the entirety of the evening. Indeed, they fell into their roles perfectly. As planned, Leia changed into a wispy evening gown, whose flowing material concealed the small blaster strapped to the inside of her thigh, while Rieekan and Theta donned understated summer-weight suits. All on loan from the Alliance Intelligence props master, whose collection of clothing rivalling that of any major theater troupe. Leaving their bags in their suite, they descended the ornate staircase and entered the ballroom promptly in time for the opening cocktails.  
  
A pleasant ocean breeze drifted in through the wide windows, which offered stunning views onto velvety black beaches and sparkling jade water. Theta lifted two delicate glasses of something pink and fizzy from a passing tray and handed one to Leia as she got her bearings. After a cursory lap around the perimeter of the crowd, they got to work. By layering a flirty veneer over her years of diplomatic training, Leia cheerfully mingled with the gala’s guests and effortlessly sparked conversation each time she identified a promising mark.  
  
_What an exquisite reception, wouldn’t you agree?_ She admired the magnate for his dedication and compassion, she told the white-haired gentlemen earnestly. In fact she admired all philanthropists so very much. That was what she intended to do when she graduated – start a foundation. Her degree was in Outer Rim sociology and art history, but she had already begun organizing and joining movements. Ocean conservation was dear to her heart, of course, but there were so many worthy causes. Currently she was running an awareness campaign for the ethical treatment of non-sentients on Kuat’s moons. Had he seen the clips of their sit-in at the embassy? What were his views on non-sentients? _I hope it isn’t too forward, but I do carry leaflets with me anywhere I go… and a donation chip-reader just in case. Just in case! You never know who you’ll meet, and it’s just so authentic to be able to talk to a like-minded individual face-to-face. That’s a real connection, when I can look in your eyes and know you really get it, you know?_ She hoped it wasn’t too forward to speak candidly like this. If he preferred, she would be delighted to come to his office with more reading material and the rest of the volunteer team at a later date…?  
  
Theta let her do the talking, interrupting only to smoothly re-direct if the foray seemed fruitless. Otherwise he receded into the background. Rieekan hovered at an unobtrusive distance. By the time the waiters began ushering the guests into the banquet room, a good portion of the elderly donors had contributed something, along with several of the middle-aged tycoons, each happy to have been so sincerely flattered by a lovely, bubbly reminder of their youth. They obligingly swiped their credit chips into her datapad, donating the nominal amount required to send her merrily on her way.  
  
Unbeknownst to them, their credits would then flow through a series of non-profits and shell accounts, before arriving in one of the Alliance’s many encrypted coffers. More importantly, it was easy for her to key in some valuable details in her notes. Their names and companies, for instance, as well as their reactions to her carefully worded prodding. Which of the following had they reacted most positively to? Over-exploitation of natural resources? Respect for our non-human neighbors? Native control of the means of production? She jotted down details of their conversation in efficient shorthand, which the rebel analysts would develop into new opportunities upon her return. Fundraising was a never-ending concern for the Alliance, and establishing relationships with stakeholders in every industry was key to loosening the Empire’s grip on the galactic economy.  
  
Her father might have blanched at the giggling and hair twirling, but the results spoke for themselves. At a ten-thousand-credit-per-plate gala, casual donations quickly added up to a respectable sum.  
  
They eased off once the reception segued into the seated portion of the evening, during which she would identify a few last targets to aim for after dinner. In the stately banquet room, they leaned into their roles as a bright-eyed young couple, holding hands amorously, whispering to each other incessantly, and clapping enthusiastically after every toast and speech. Playing the role of Leia’s long-suffering, moneyed father, Rieekan deflected his neighboring diners’ attempts at conversation with numerous health complaints and poor table manners. For Leia, the lavish, five-course dinner, which mostly centered around innovative uses of seaweed to counteract over-fishing, felt newly disorienting. Once a near-weekly fixture her past life as a senator, the abundant dishes overwhelmed her after months of the freeze-dried rations served in the Alliance canteens. She felt famished and guilty all at once, oddly wondering how she might smuggle a slice of cake back to Chewbacca.  
  
Just as the last plates were cleared and Sullustian coffee or liqueurs were being poured to those partaking, Rieekan’s comm beeped in his pocket. _My scopes are going crazy_ , read the message he discreetly showed Leia. _Wrap it up_.  
  
The evening’s host announced that music and dancing would continue in the ballroom and the veranda. Leia took advantage of the scraping of chairs and excited chatter to dispatch Theta to collect their bags, so they could minimize their movements around the resort and leave immediately. They convened at the side entrance to the cargo dock ten minutes later. Night had fallen. Leia gathered the length of her gown around her knees to free her legs and they hurried back to the Falcon in the darkness.  
  
Han was waiting for them at the dimly lit ramp, tapping his long fingers against the hull. “There’s a bunch of ships moving towards this place all at once. I can’t get a read on them, but I got a bad feeling. We said four hours tops, anyway. Let’s go.”  
  
Chewie was already strapped in and pushing buttons when Leia and Theta entered the cockpit, taking the seats behind the pilots. General Rieekan volunteered to man one of the gun turrets, just in case. Leia hoped they were overreacting. There had been no indication that anything was amiss on the ground. Then again, Han’s instincts rarely failed him.  
  
\--  
  
“An Imperial blockade!” Theta cried as soon as they broke through the planet’s atmosphere.  
  
Leia’s heart stopped. A dozen Imperial ships loomed in front of them, blocking the Falcon’s path. Too close to allow a jump forward into hyperspace. Had their ally betrayed them?  
  
Solo straightened in his seat. “Looks like your friends decided to join the party. Chewie, stay on course.”  
  
Rieekan’s voice sounded out over the intercom. “Activating the ion cannon. Aiming for the light cruiser at 12 o’clock.”  
  
“No!” Solo shouted back. “So far we’re just a freighter to them. We fire something like that they’ll unload everything they got on us! Hold on.”  
  
Leia counted the TIE fighters and cruisers. No star destroyers. This was no coincidence. Just enough force to overpower a solitary ship such as theirs. “Are you crazy?! We can’t push through a fleet of that size! They’ll –“  
  
The ship’s radio crackled to life. “Corellian Y-class freighter. All ships leaving Castilus must be inspected by order of the Empire. Halt and identify yourselves or we will shoot.”  
  
“Nah,” Solo turned to punch new coordinates into the navicomputer. “Chewie, put all power in the forward shields. We’re going to take a hit, play dead, then make the jump through that opening between those two cruisers on your right. Get ready.”  
  
“What opening?!” Leia craned her neck. “There’s no opening anywhere!”  
  
“Take a hit?!” Theta leaped out of his seat, reaching for the intercom. “General, this is madness! Activate the – “  
  
A furry paw clamped over the microphone as Solo slapped Theta’s hand away from the controls.  
  
“Han, please!” Leia cried. “What do you think you’re – “  
  
“Everybody shut up! Yeah, take a hit. They don’t know my shields can take it. We’ll pretend it hurt, spin right, then jump right through there.” He pointed to the wall of Imperial ships.  
  
“Through WHERE?!”  
  
“Captain, as commanding officer – ” the intercom sputtered.  
  
“Not on MY ship, you’re not. I know what I’m doing. You fire that cannon I’ll put you through the airlock myself.”  
  
He was going to get them all killed. Leia wracked her brain for a better option. Han was always boasting about his ship’s firepower. Now he didn’t want to use it? “We’re going to die if we don’t shoot back! It’s too late to fly incognito!”  
  
“Corellian Y-class freighter. You have ten seconds to comply. ”

Theta lunged for the radio. “We are a civilian ship –“ he managed, before Chewie caught him by the collar and hauled him backwards.  
  
“That’s it!” Solo reached an arm around and forcefully unbuckled Leia’s seat belt. “Both of you, out! Chewie, get them out of here!”  
  
Theta landed in the corridor with a loud thud and a wail. “Hey!” cried Leia, scrambling after him.  
  
The impact from the Imperial cruiser’s first shot sent them both careening into the main hold, where they frantically strapped themselves in and closed their eyes tight, cursing their suicidal pilot and their luck.  
  
\--  
  
Now the cockpit was dark and quiet. Its stubborn captain hadn’t said another word since she’d accepted his stony update. 

“Thank you,” Leia said belatedly. Another long moment passed. She sighed. “What are you even looking at out there?”  
  
He cut his eyes over to her reflection in the viewport.  
  
“Nothing. I don’t know. The star we’re heading for. Drexel.”  
  
“You can’t make it out from here,” she scoffed. She squinted at the tapestry of minuscule lights glittering before them.  
  
“Sure I can.” He leaned over, bridging the gap between their seats. Leaning his elbow on her armrest, he pointed straight ahead. “Right there. You see those three stars in a triangle? At one o’clock, to the right of that red giant? It’s the middle one.” He turned to see her face, smiling slightly.  
  
“I don’t believe you,” she replied, but she felt the tension leave her shoulders as she let her gaze follow his finger. She liked him so much better when he relaxed. Then she could relax around him too. His real smile was nothing like the hard grin he flashed to freeze her out. This one put her at ease.

“Really? Well, check this out.” He pulled up the star map on the navigational panel. “We’re here,” he tapped on the screen. “The fleet is in the Drexel system, here. Two days away.” He dragged his finger across the map. “See the triangle?” She looked down panel, then back up, surprised to see the distant specks of light match the diagram so perfectly. “You should learn this stuff if you’re going to keep risking your life out here,” he said seriously. He was looking at her squarely now, his expression earnest. “I mean it. You never know what could happen. What if me and Chewie faint or something? We might need you to rescue us, pilot the ship home.”  
  
Leia chuckled at the image of the fearsome Wookie and the tall smuggler wilting like flowers. “Pilot this bucket? I’d probably flip the one switch holding it together and blow us all up,” she teased back. 

“Nah, she’s solid enough. I’ll teach you.” He smiled wide. Leia drew her knees in, curling up in Chewie’s oversized seat. They fell into a companionable silence and turned their eyes back to the stars.  
  
Xx


End file.
